Christmas Flies By

A week ago I arrived in Indiana to pouring down rain and nearly 50 degrees. Seeing the rain made me realize how long it's been since I've seen it. Only this time it's not because I came from Texas where it hardly ever drops anything out of the sky. This time it's because I've seen nothing but snow falling from the sky for the past two months!

It's been a great time at home. I've thrown Jenny's new cat off the table several times, played fetch down the hall with the dogs, ate much more than I should, saw Frozen for the second time (and would see it a dozen more), played several rounds of racquetball (and haven't won one), put together two puzzles, played several board games, read four books, gone to bed late and woke up even later and wiled away quite a few hours doing practically nothing.

But the best part of Christmas this year was the surprise arrival of my baby brother. Caleb graduated from high school in June and joined the Marines. He finished boot camp in September, went through combat training and is now training in radio in the desert of California. Until a few weeks ago, we all thought he wouldn't get leave to come home for Christmas. Then he called me and said he was coming, but I wasn't to tell our parents. He arrived on a delayed flight very early Sunday morning. Sally picked him up at the airport and took him back to her apartment. On Sunday, he slipped into church in full uniform with a bouquet of flowers for my surprised (and crying) mother. It was the best gift my parents (and all of us) received for Christmas!

I still have nearly three days here in Indiana before I return to white, snowy, frigid Minnesota. I'll go see a movie with at least two of my sisters tomorrow, play some more racquetball, throw the cat off a few more tables, play some more games and eat a few more cookies than I should. It will fly by way too fast!

That's Where I'm Going!

Okay, so maybe I'm a little excited about going home today for Christmas. I was so occupied yesterday morning thinking about all the things I needed to do last night to be ready that I forgot to pick up Marc. He had asked me to pick him up at Upsala Motors where he was leaving his car to be worked on on my way to work in the morning. As I pulled into the camp parking lot and saw his car missing, I wondered where he was since he's always in before we are. And then I remembered! Good thing work's only 5 minutes from Upsala...

This year instead of getting excited because I'm headed someplace cold where we might actually have a white Christmas, I'm headed to the "sunny south". Or "sunny midwest". Or "sunny southern midwest". I don't know. I'm pretty clear about where New England is. Or where the Mason Dixon line is drawn. Or where THE South truly is (especially since I have to explain my accent so much now). But the Midwest is still very obscure to me. Where does it begin? And where does it stop? Do I live in the Midwest? Or is Minnesota and Dakotas lost in their own space, somewhere between Midwest and Northwest? Maybe it all depends upon where you're standing. 

Anyhow, last night we got nearly 4 inches of snow! Wasn't expecting that, but I watched it from my window last night. It was gorgeous - one of those snows that glitters and it falls from the sky and shimmers in softness on the ground. It was a soft, powdery snow not at all good for snowball fights or snowmen, but wonderful just to gaze upon and sigh in wonder and peace. The next few days here will be in the teens to below zero. Where I'm headed it's actually above freezing during the day! I think I might need to pack my swimsuit...

Indiana. Home of...cornfields. I arrive tonight. My parents will pick me up. I think a couple of sisters might be home when I get there. Most definitely the three dogs will run to greet me. And all day long I'll hum the song from Straight No Chaser, "Indiana...that's where I'm goin'!"

Yea!

Toys!

While doing some “research” for the Mother/Daughter retreat in April here at camp, I came across a museum I want to visit: Strong National Museum of Play in Rochester, New York. Yeah, I guess I’ve not quite grown up…

Within that museum is the National Toy Hall of Fame. Every year, one to four toys are inducted into the Hall of Fame based upon criteria including widely recognizable, well remembered, has spanned more than one generation and fosters learning and creativity. The only exceptions are toys that have changed toy design or play, even though they may not have been around for a long time or are universally liked. Intrigued, I got a book from the library about the toys in this Hall of Fame.

With Christmas only eight days away, learning about toys is perfect! When I was little, Katey and I would sit for hours with the Sears catalog and initial every item we wanted. As you can well imagine, most of the toy section was covered with M’s and K’s. Sadly, with the invention of the internet, we no longer enjoy Sears catalogs. Equally sadly, I not longer list toys on my list (except board games). But reading this book, I’ve almost considered an exception when it comes to my favorites:

1.      Etch A Sketch: I had one of these for years – nearly decades – before one of the knobs came off and we threw it away. I wasn’t very good at it by any means, but it’s a really neat toy! And when you learn how the thing actually operates, it’s enough to make you go out and buy another for old time’s sake!
2.      Wooden blocks: I had a set of these. In fact, they may still be in the attic somewhere for future grandkids to play with. Recently I saw a set advertised that came in a “puzzle”. Put the 50 blocks together and you get a map of the United States. Listed on the blocks are facts from the states: capital, bird, tree, etc. If it weren’t $100, I would have already bought it.
3.      Board games: Those in the Hall of Fame are Scrabble, Monopoly, Candy Land (the game that led me to the museum’s website), Checkers, Chess and Life. I actually own all but the game of Life (which I don’t like playing anyhow…except on the Wii). One day, though, I would like to get on Ebay and get another Candy Land just like mine…my cards are very worn out!
4.      Erector Set: I played with my dad’s for hours and hours. If I could find some old sets with the really good pieces, I wouldn’t mind having them now. I could still spend hours putting things together!
5.      Mr. Potato Head: Since he did originate from Rhode Island just like I did, we have a special bond! But nothing will ever be like my first Mr. Potato Head that looked like a grandpa next to my sister’s newer one. He even had “grandpa glasses”, which I would wear on my own face out to the grocery store and other public locations. My mother still brings that up at times…perhaps I embarrassed her just a little.

To be honest, it’s hard to choose my favorites from among the 53 toys in the Hall of Fame. I’ve owned (or possessed in the case of a stick or a box) 38 of them. And reading about them brings back lots of fond memories! And makes me wonder what I would suggest for induction into the Hall of Fame. Paperdolls? A sled? Bubbles? Winnie the Pooh?  Or my most favorite toy ever: Little People! I mean, they are the perfect toy. You can play house, school, airport, library, zoo or just about anything with them. Plus, you can put them in order of color, size, hair, freckles or no freckles…well, just ask Katey if you want to know how many ways I can sort Little People! And as much as I think the new ones are adorable, they just don’t sort as well as mine do…

What toy would you put in the Hall of Fame?

Happy 22^nd Birthday, Jenny!

Below WHAT????

So, I've lived in some cold places. (And hot ones, but I try to forget that...) I have to say, though, I've never lived in a place where it is BELOW ZERO EVERYDAY FOR A WEEK!!!! But that's what it's been since last Thursday. Temps drop 20 or more below at night and rise to 3 below during the day. Okay, granted, it rose above zero Sunday and yesterday. But with the wind...well, it still feels about...well, I don't know. When it's below zero it all feels the same: COLD.

So, here is what I have learned over the past week about living in sub-zero temperatures:

• Put a coat on EVERY TIME you go outside!
• 20 degrees above 0 sounds like a heatwave...40 above I'll put on my swimsuit!
• I cough every time I step outside the door.
• Snow doesn't melt: the roads are still 90% covered and the trees still look beautiful as they sag under the weight of the snow.
• Every morning the snow glistens off the ice covered trees...and melts nothing!
• Except on interstates and main county roads, no sand/salt is used - nothing's going to melt anyway!
• It gets into your bones...and takes a while to warm up.
• Drink LOTS of hot chocolate, tea, coffee...and eat soup!
• Drive carefully! You are driving on flattened ice and snow with very little traction.
• Warm your car up - even if you don't plan on going anywhere that day.
• Walk briskly with your shoulders hunched over. (Not sure that really keeps you any warmer, but for some reason everyone does it.)
• You'd still have to pay me a million dollars (or more!) to move back to Texas.

Ice and Snow

Where I come from (sort of…), there is ice on the lakes. Maybe on the rivers. But it doesn’t happen overnight. And most rivers don’t freeze. In Minnesota, everything freezes.

I thought the guy in the truck towing his ice fishing trailer a couple of weeks ago was jumping the gun a bit. Apparently, he knows much more than I do. For just last Saturday, the tried and true Minnesotans were out in their ice fishing houses on some of the lakes. And my guess for the “Ice On” contest at work was about three weeks off. The lake at camp isn’t completely frozen, but it’s about 90%. After this weekend (we now have about 6 inches of snow with more expected tonight before temperatures drop to a high of 3 with lows at nearly 20 below for three days), it will be ready to be set up for Broom Ball.

According to people up here, the ice is right on time. It’s pretty amazing to wake up one morning and find a lake nearly frozen solid. But more amazing than that is the Great Mississippi. Before this past February, I would have said the rivers in the United States don’t freeze through much. After all, we don’t live in the Arctic and rivers and running water. Not so. When I arrived here, the Mississippi was frozen solid and people will snowmobile on it. It’s well on it’s way now, and I find it amazing when I drive near it and then over it every Sunday on my way to church. I’ve never seen a great river freeze – the flows that crash upon one another making parts of it smooth and other parts a pile up of huge shards of ice. What is even more staggering is that, in time, it will freeze perfectly smooth.

The Mississippi as it freezes over.

Meanwhile, we braved the first round of the winter storm on Monday and drove out to another camp about an hour and a half northeast of here for a two-day Staff Retreat. It snowed into the afternoon that day – the perfect wet snow for beauty and snowball fights. (Yea to Andrea and I for three successful sneak attacks!) It started up again just as we drove back to our camp yesterday late afternoon. I braved the not-very-well-plowed county roads to spend three hours at camp today so I’m ready for the last quilters to arrive tomorrow, but the snow hasn’t let up all day. And so, I now live in a Winter Wonderland!

Five Minutes of Thanksgiving

I am going to set a timer for five minutes and type things I am thankful for (in no particular order) just to see how many I can type. Ready? Set? Go!

My salvation, God’s unchanging-ness, Mom, Dad, Katey, Daniel, Sally, Grace, Jenny, Abby and Caleb. My adorable nephew Jay! Allyson and Kevin, along with Caleb, Violet, Seth, Silas, Laurel, Marigold and the future little Wilkins due in the spring. My friend Jenny. Ed! My job. A place to live that has heat during this cold weather of winter! Snow! Sweaters. The ability to run, jump, stretch (somewhat). My car. My bike. Sunshine. Rain. My Bible in my own language. Books, books and more books! Creativity. Words. Letters. Ice cream, pizza, French toast, broccoli soup, warm bread, honey, bananas (on the green side), maple syrup, hot chocolate. My chair. Movies. My computer. Pictures. Libraries! Color. Rainbows. Green grass. Colorful leaves. Lilacs, red roses. Ice on the lakes and rivers. Loving dogs. Shoes. Boots. Warm sweatshirts. My quilt from my mom. A cozy bed. Hot bubble baths. Shampoo and soap. Hot water. Plates, utensils, bowls. Recipes. Shiny things. Cookies. Apples, cherries…

And my time is up! I have a feeling if I wasn’t a little OCD about punctuation and somewhat proper grammar, I could have typed more! Anyhow…

HAVE A VERY BLESSED THANKSGIVING!!!!

And Winter Begins...

Okay, so we have had snow in October, but that was like a pre-winter warm-up. Since then we have had cold days....and nights that have fallen to the single digits. But it's look like I changed my blog background just in time to welcome the start of winter!

Yesterday, the temperatures may have gotten into the 20s. Around ten, it started to snow. It was like watching glittering confetti fall from the sky. Since I didn't have to go into work until later, I sat in my cozy chair with a good book and watched it fall. It stopped around 12:30 as I went out to start my car. The wind picked up. I decided to wear my real winter coat. And I'm glad I did! I was tramping around camp for a couple of hours, going from building to building to hang door signs and put out things for the scrapbookers that will arrive today. Even Andrea - Minnesotan born and bred - was dashing about shivering, "It's cold out here!"

It felt like winter.

This morning I awoke to a high of 5 degrees! But the sun was out, so by the time I bundled up and went out for a run, it was about 12 degrees. Yes, it was a little brisk out. When I ran past open fields (and there are quite a few of those), the wind whipped by and made by cheeks freeze. The little creek (or "crick" as the natives say) has frozen edges. I have a feeling the people in town who see me every other day running think I'm nuts. But, I like a sunny, cold morning for a run. Except for the wind pushing against me, there's nothing better than good, fresh, clean, cold air!  But with the sun out, it seems a bit warmer than a high of 20. I put on my soft shell camp jacket instead of my winter coat, although I did still dash out to warm up my car (praise God for a garage!). For the lake is telling me that winter is coming. There was ice around some of it's edges today, causing me to wonder if my guess of December 17 for the "Ice-On" contest is a little late. Tonight, the temperature will drop below zero.

Yes, it feels like winter.

Foxes and Trains

Isn't it funny how you hear a phrase or see some object and for the next several weeks every where you turn you read that phrase or someone says something about that object? It's like deja vu but not exactly. I have had two of those things happen recently.

First is this YouTube hit. Now, I'm not a YouTube watcher. I'm probably not on it but once every couple of months. But Andrea said I had to see this one called "What Does the Fox Say?" All I have to say is, I take my writing too seriously. If I could just write something as silly as that, someone would turn it into a song which would then go viral so I could make a fortune as a bestseller. Since then, I have seen a dead fox along side the road when I was out jogging. Andrea has re-writes of that song going on her computer every other day (such as "What Does the Farmer Say?" and some camp that used it to advertise their winter youth retreats). Even today, Tirzah (our part-time financial assistant) plops down at her desk and mutters, "What does the fox say?" Okay, I'm about done with foxes.

The second is trains. I like trains. One of these days, I'd love to take a long ride on one so I get to sleep on it. And I also hope to purchase a model one to run around my Christmas village someday. But a couple of weeks ago, I saw a children's picture book at the library called "Locomotives". The painting on the front was gorgeous, but I was in a rush so I didn't check it out. (I now have it waiting on hold at the library.) Funny how I would just start writing a book about the Underground Railroad, not that that actually used trains. (I just always relate it to that because the first time I learned what the underground railroad was, thanks to a secret room in our house in New Hampshire that had been used for that, I had a dream about a real train under the ground that slaves ran to to escape north.) Marc recently mentioned I should take a train to Indiana for the holidays instead of flying. And then I had the funniest memory yesterday when I was vacuuming my apartment. I moved my sole two dining chairs (that don't belong to a table) into my kitchen so I could vacuum. As I sat them in a line, I remembered all the times my siblings and I would set up the dining chairs in a line when Mom was cleaning, dragging in our dolls and blankets so we could go on a train adventure somewhere. Maybe I should have grabbed my panda bears and gone on an adventure for old time's sake... :)

Another Weekend...

And so quilt begins...again. It's like a merry-go-round that never stops! I was never good on those things as a kid. Adulthood hasn't helped. I think Andrea was being hopeful today. She brought some menus over to me so I could put them in the folder behind the desk.

"Um, Andrea, these are for Quilt D and E," I said.

"What? Oh!"

We're only just starting Quilt C...

I determined today that I'm not honestly sure how these quilters get any quilt made since reading and following directions is not their strong suit. Our mailings expressly state that arrival time is at 3:30. But our quilters must think they live somewhere in very far eastern Canada or the Caribbean because they started arriving at 1:30. So, as I'm running around trying to get everything ready two hours early, I hear one quilter tell another:

"Well, now we're here. We can just relax."

Mmh...is that what camp is for? Relaxing? I'm not sure I could ever go to a camp and relax. Ever.

Last evening I saw something I've never seen before, but I guess I shouldn't be surprised out here in the middle of nothing-but-farms. I had stopped to get gas and noticed this guy walk behind me and into the convenient store to get a pizza. (I'll give them credit for that - they do make really good pizzas.) I saw him come back out and walk behind me, but his car wasn't on the other side of the pumps which meant he must be crossing the street. I wondered why, but when I looked, I saw: he had driven his tractor into town to pick up his pizza.

Veteran's Day

"The willingness with which our young people are likely to serve in any war, no matter how justified, shall be directly proportional as to how they perceive the veterans of earlier wars were treated and appreciated by their nation."
              - George Washington

Quilt Begins...Again

We are starting the marathon. 130-some-odd quilters arrive today....most will leave on Sunday...but others will leave on Thursday....just in time for more to arrive on Friday. For eighteen days straight there will be quilters here. We might survive.

So, exactly what do I do as I await for these women to arrive like a plague of grasshoppers? I mean, besides blog. Well, I wait. Quilters are supposed to arrive around 3:30. I grew up with the rule that being early is being on time, but arriving at 2...? Well, so it began.

About a dozen arrived around two. They trickled in until mass chaos broke out about 3:30. This lasted for a good 45 minutes. Now it's back down to a trickle. I'm waiting for about 40 more women to arrive. Seems like a lot, but that's only a third left. Thy won't all arrive by the time I leave around 9:30, but most of them should. When they rush in a like a plague, it's about all I can do to keep up with their names, tell them where their rooms are and where their work space is and answer questions. When they trickle, I socialize with the "bellhops" (teenagers from a local church who help the ladies move in more stuff than you can imagine as a fundraiser) or the few women I know, do things I need to get done online and read a book. Not a bad way to spend several hours.

For quilt, that's about all I do. Next weekend, I'll be here all weekend being a "gofer", helping with odds and ends. Honestly, quilt isn't so bad once I got over the overwhelming amount of women and the stuff they bring. Once they're moved in, they keep to themselves and their projects. Nothing like having to entertain over 200 women like during women's retreats. So, quilt has risen in my estimation of camp events. But I'm not going to become a quilter. No matter how many times they ask.

MN: From the Perspective of a Nomad, Part 8

When they're not fishing...they're hunting.

Scraps and Pieces

• Well, Fall Quilt started yesterday with somewhere around 70 women arriving...followed by 50 or so today. They're all wiling away the hours with their sewing machines. This will go on through the whole month of November (minus the week of Thanksgiving) and then one more week in December. I'm much calmer going into it than I was in the spring....maybe because I have done it once or maybe because 90% of the women were signed-up and fully registered before the middle of September. That made getting ready much easier!

• Last night, Andrea and I went to a family's house to play games with some friends of hers. They had several other people over, too. We played Catch Phrase, which is always fun. And we played a game called Four on a Couch. That took me a little bit to get a hang of and it wasn't until I got home and was lying in bed that I knew what I should have been keeping track of (although I guess I did a pretty good job, according to the people I was playing with).

• I think the funnest part, though, was when one of the girls was telling a story about her recent jogging experience. I do live out in the country, surrounded by corn fields and dairy farms. So, lots of cows. I see the around when I'm out jogging, too, but they're usually within their fences. If they've escaped, they stay in their field and leave me alone. Well, she was jogging down a country road like most runners in the 21st century looking down at her iPod rather than what might be in front of her. When she was brought to an abrupt stop by running right into a cow. A cow who wasn't scared of her at all. She tried to scare it out of the road by yelling and throwing rocks, but that only made the cow mad. It came towards her...she got scared...and then tumbled over the side of the road into the swampy ditch.

         "Can you put running shoes in the wash?" she asked.

• Also last evening, Andrea showed me a video of two of her nephews. The older one found a live mouse caught by the tail in a trap. At first, he was scared of it but eventually he picked it up by the trap, the little house jerking around as it tried to get away. His father was asking what he should do with it, but since he wasn't sure, their dad suggested taking it outside. 

         "Oh, yes," the younger boy had now come to look at the mouse. "It needs to go outside."

         "Does it?" their dad asked.

         "Yes," the boy replied. "We need to take it for a walk outside."

• And today I learned from a teenage boy what a Cricket machine is: "A woman's video game console."

MN: From the Perspective of a Nomad, Part 7

Funny, from where I lived in Texas I headed straight up I35 until I was on the opposite end of the country and...well, it's almost like being on the opposite side of the world! This time last year, I was jogging around and playing tennis in shorts. Today I was jumping rope and running sprints while snow tumbled down from the sky. Personally, I much prefer the fresh, crisp air and beauty of the snow!

Yes, it has snowed in Minnesota...

This is about as much as it stuck this time around, although it fell all morning. But the snow shovels are out, the guys have been putting bags of sand in strategic locations about camp and we're getting ready...because, you know, it hasn't snowed in four months - and it's about time!

I also discovered a new tree this week. Not that I'm a botanist. I'm not good with trees...or anything that grows, really. Aaron mentioned a tree called "tamarack" earlier this year. I wasn't sure what he was talking about...until I saw yellow fir trees this week. Our camp gardener was telling us today that it is the only pine he knows that not only changes colors but looses all it's needles. They're pretty neat. I've certainly never seen anything like them and they make the landscape very pretty.

New Hampshire

I guess you know it's a great vacation when you don't look at a computer but once. I checked my e-mail the day after I got there. Then I practically forgot I had e-mail. After all, I had an eight-month-old nephew to play with instead. And Allyson's six-going-on-seven children. And her sister Charity had a baby while I was there...does it get any better than that? So while it was nice to return to snow flurries in Minnesota, going back to an empty apartment was no fun at all. I miss the kids!

 Half of Allyson's kids: Seth, Silas and Laurel. (Missing Caleb, Violet and Marigold.)

Charity's new baby: Eleanor Hope.

 Jay's first cheese from the deli at the grocery store! Yummy!

  We love our ball! (Well, for 5 minutes at a time...)

 Bathtime!

 Aunt Melissa and Jay on the lawn at the Breakers in Newport, RI.

 Mommy and Jay at Rosecliff in Newport.

Yes, he is the most adorable nephew ever!

To-do List

Today, I leave for New Hampshire! It's a little hard to believe that I shall be leaving a cold, rainy state for one that will be warmer! I think I'm even going to miss the first snow flurries!

But that's okay, because I have plenty to do where I'm headed:

1. Play with Jay.
2. Play with Caleb, Violet, Seth, Silas, Laurel and Marigold.
3. Have dinner with some old friends.
4. Play with Jay.
5. Eat ice cream.
6. Play with Caleb, Violet, Seth, Silas, Laurel and Marigold.
7. Visit an old bookstore.
8. Play with Jay.
9. Eat good New England apples.
10. Play with Caleb, Violet, Seth, Silas, Laurel and Marigold.
11. Visit Newport, Rhode Island.
12. Play with Jay.
13. Eat the most delicious clam chowder in the world.
14. Play with Caleb, Violet, Seth, Silas, Laurel and Marigold.
15. In the midst of all this playing, visit with Katey and Allyson.
16. Play with Jay.
17. Go to Dunkin' Donuts (more than once).
18. Play with Caleb, Violet, Seth, Silas, Laurel and Marigold.
19. Visit the dollhouse shop and purchase flooring in order to finish a couple of floors.
20. Play with Jay.

Doesn't it sound like a wonderful trip? :)

Book Review

I have been reminded of late what great doctrines are held in the hymns of old. No one today sings, “God works in mysterious ways, His wonders to perform.” Because the pop/rock ‘n roll style “worship songs” of today are all about ME, what God does for ME, and how “ME” felt about what God did. And why not? For are we not horribly selfish people? When God does work in mysterious ways, we think about how that affected ME. Not about the wonders He is performing.

Christina Willems felt that her whole life was of service to God. Taking over the poor farm after her father’s death, she poured every moment of her days into the people who relied upon her for their safety and provision. But when a fire destroys the kitchen of the home, she and those under her care are forced to rely upon the charity of others…until the Lord provides each of them with new homes and new ventures. With those she once cared moving on, and the mission board refusing to provide the money to repair the home; Christina finds herself adrift. What use is she? Why won’t God allow her to do the work she knows so well? And why do things seem to go from bad to even worse?

What Once was Lost by Kim Vogel Sawyer is the story of a young woman who finds herself lost in the midst of God’s mysterious ways…and found when she once again sees His wonders to perform.

This book was provided by Waterbrook Multnomah for review purposes only.

http://waterbrookmultnomah.com/catalog.php?isbn=9780307731258

Survived!

“The women are coming – head to the hills!”

Thus the weekends started with Bill’s cry to me as I jogged back over to the office before early bird registration began two Thursdays ago. He was a little off. No matter what time you tell the women registration begins, at least five of them arrive an hour early, so women had already arrived. And I thought, “If only I could head to the hills.”

“Let’s hurry,” Andrea said as we darted to our cars this past Sunday afternoon. “Before we run into another woman.”

And thus ended two weekends of women retreats. For no matter what time you tell them to leave, there were still women around even after we finally departed camp at two Sunday afternoon. Talking, chatting, saying goodbye twenty times, not wanting to go home. Who knows what time they all finally left.

And, so, I have officially survived two weekends of women’s retreats. Which was the only thing I could think of saying when Bill asked me at last week’s staff meeting how the weekend had gone. It’s not a question I can answer like he wants, which I think doesn’t make sense to him. He and Lisa see ministry as being out there for people to unburden themselves to, and exchange lots of hugs, and share life stories. Which is all a very important part of ministry. But it’s not my “niche”. I like my office, and order, and not tons of emotion. A support to the ministry Bill and Lisa feel is most important, and a wonderful thing in the office. Not so practical when over 200 women want to pour out their struggles and I come across as not being very emotional or approachable. So, what I haven’t quite learned is how I do fit in to women’s events…something Bill and Lisa haven’t figured out either.

So, while the two weekends were very long (and made more so by wet, autumn weather that allowed for getting out and yet seemed to congregate the women in one main building), there were high points. I got to know a couple of women who spend a lot of time at quilt retreats, which is nice because I feel even more lost during a month when I’m a mere passing face to over 500 women focused on projects I know nothing about. Knowing a couple of the women’s names and vice versa will be a stepping block I can stand on. And I got to know one woman who I work with a little bit. She’s does our website, works on mass e-mails and things of that nature. As some new things get launched I’ll have a finger or two in, it was nice to make a connection with the person who does all that.

I have to say, though, that a total of nearly 450 women over a total of six days is overwhelming, exhausting and mind-numbing. And I just marvel that Solomon – the wisest man who ever lived – had a harem of 1,000 women. He was nuts. And perhaps he shared my thoughts as he ended his days on earth: I survived! 

Millipedes and Frogs

I’m not actually sure what the Minnesota state insect or animal are, but I certainly have a vote. Perhaps once I get my voting status in order (which I thought I did when I got my driver’s license, but I’m thinking they didn’t read that checkbox right – or, either they don’t want another Republican in this state), I’ll cast my vote. Insect: millipede. Animal: frog.

I noticed the frogs a few weeks ago when I was tramping about camp in the dark delivering sleeping bags to men who had failed to bring one. (Either they don’t have a wife, or they slipped past without her checking their luggage.) Every step I took, a frog jumped across my path. And as it’s quite dark around camp, I was afraid I was going to step on one and end it’s life. When it rains, the frogs come out in even more abundance. For last weekend I was out after dark walking back to the office, frogs jumped out from every bush or rustled underneath the branches as I walked past. I have thought many times I should catch a few and try kissing them. One of them is bound to be a prince – right?

The millipedes started the past weekend. I know what those things are. I saw a few in the house in Texas – dried up in little curls which I dust-mopped down the hall. In my apartment here, they are quite alive and skitter their way across my living room floor. At first I just thought a few had wandered in. I caught them in a paper towel and squished them. But they came back the next night. And when I went out the next morning…well, there were more of them gathered in the cracks of the walkway by the front door than amounts to the entire population of Upsala. Yes, it was disgusting. Since then, the dozen or so that wander into my apartment at night get gathered up and unceremoniously drowned. I think word has gotten out. For while they remain in gross piles on the walkway, I’ve seen but two in my apartment tonight.

As fall progresses, who knows what other creatures I shall learn about in this state of Minnesota. Of course, the deer are coming out in droves. I see nearly half a dozen a week. Once winter sets in, the pheasants will come out and beg to be hit on the sides of the road. Stupid things fly at you when you drive by…rather like armadillos in Texas. But I don’t really blame the creatures. I love this time of year, too. Frost in the air – the leaves turning brilliant colors. A real autumn!

The Women are Coming!

We began staff meeting on Tuesday by sharing with others what we are thankful for. We got around to Jim (the chef) who said with a perfectly straight face, “The men are gone. The women are coming.”

“And which are you thankful for?” Lisa asked.

“Well…”

Whether we like it or not, the women are coming. 220 of them this weekend and about 230 of them next. And I stressed about it all last week…to the point that I hit a wall Friday morning. And felt sick before going into work on Monday. I’m not sure if women who feel called to women’s ministry have more grace than the rest of us or are just crazy.

God is ever gracious! Andrea and I both thought we’d hit Monday running an ultra marathon we hadn’t trained for. Women’s events at camp can be stressful, but other things have been going on that have lessened the usual pressure. We’ve ended every day this week looking at each other in amazement. Honestly, it feels like there’s got to be something HUGE we’re missing. But if there is, it’s not on my checklist.

Of course, there have been moments. I keep thinking I’m back in school. One woman tried to manipulate me with “threats” today as if I could make Jim appear in his office when he’d left work for the day.  Half the cancellations we’ve had share their “sob story” as if I’m the teacher and they’re trying to explain why they didn’t hand in their homework. I have had only one call from a woman who wanted to do the right thing about a cancellation, and I was more than happy to just let it ride as it was…for at least she tried!

And like the first day of school, I come to work today scared that the other girls won’t like me. After all, I’ve never really fit in. The five years I did spend in a school setting, I thankfully had friends. But I was also bullied.  I found books and tried to keep out of sight. Maybe most kids feel that way. Maybe most adults. I know I do. For sixty women arrive today and the other 160 tomorrow, most of them gabbing about their husbands, and kids, and the homes they have…while I’ve nothing to talk about but my job and the latest book I’ve read. They have no interest in that. And so, twenty-five years later, I still don’t fit in. And will bring a book to read in my down time.

Adult school is a lot harder than kids school. Especially women’s events that mean long hours (48 clocked working hours in just 3 ½ days) and lots of talking about husbands and kids. It’s hard not to envy the ones who speak of such things with joy. Those who are struggling and complain, I want to hit. Can’t they see that even though there are struggles, they’ve been given a husband to struggle alongside? They’re children may not be perfect, but they are reward from God! Some of us aren’t allowed the struggles anymore than we are allowed the blessings…and we would rejoice to have them both.

There will be many lessons to learn this weekend. The first is to have a humble, servant’s heart. For the women are coming. And God’s grace is sufficient. 

Samuel Caleb Sturm, 

US Marine Corps

My brother

Happy Birthday, Katey!

Let’s put on our matching dance leotards, and I’ll teach you how to spin!

Retreat Season

As the days grow shorter, rain darkens the skies, the temperatures stoop into the 30s and 40s at night and the leaves just start changing colors retreat season comes to camp. In a matter of one month we have four different kinds of retreats: Dads ‘n Daughters, Senior, Men’s and Women’s (which takes up two weekends). As the registrar, I have to look at the broad picture of all of them at once and yet keep my focus on the one that’s up to bat. Sometimes it does feel a little like a juggling act since no two retreats are the same. In fact, I have learned several differences between Seniors, Men and Women:

• Seniors sign up as soon as they receive their brochure, pay in full and don’t bother me until they arrive unless they must cancel. Men trickle in last minute over the phone, only bother me with questions and most pay in full. Women sign up in droves as soon as the registration hits their mailbox, call about a million things from where they want to room to whom they want to room with to what’s for dinner to savings spots for their friend, and while most pay in full the ones that don’t hope the bill will disappear.
• Seniors are easy to deal with as a whole since they’re well enough to come to camp, men are only difficult when they arrive for registration because most of them are lost without their wives, women are constantly ringing my phone off the hook.
• Seniors aren’t particular about their housing aside from steps, men don’t really care where you put them as long as their with their “gang”, women want to room with this person but not that one and are very particular about their location in respect to…well, everything.
• Seniors love whatever our kitchen fixes. Men don’t care as long as meat is on the menu. 25% of women are gluten free and want particular menus (and, honestly, I’d say only 1% are actually celiac while the rest just want to loose weight).
• In a nutshell: seniors are like dealing with the kids all summer and you shrug most of the problems aside because they’re seniors. Men…well, they’re men. Planning ahead means nothing to do them, so my reports are in a constant state of change. Women never left elementary school – they want to be with their friends, save places to sit and complain when they don’t like the food.

Yes, I am learning a lot at camp! During senior week this week, I wondered what I would be like as an old lady. (I hoping for sweet!). I just shrug at the men. Can’t change them, so may as well do it their way. As for the women, I look at myself in the mirror and wonder how complicated I make the lives of others. I try to be a simple, easy to please sort of person; but I can’t honestly say I always enjoy my reflection.

Life is full of lessons. These are just a few more.

Children's Books

All of us in life have dreams. Some of them, we fulfill. Others, we don't. Of all the dreams I've had, I've partially fulfilled one if you qualify teaching kids at church and being a tutor for several years as "being a teacher". I'm still waiting for the top ones: wife and mother. And, now that my schedule is a lot less tense than it was in Texas, getting back around to the other: writer. I don't know that I will ever fulfill my dreams.

But I have a friend who has now fulfilled her dreams and I am very happy for her! She started fulfilling those dreams over the past many years when she illustrated these wonderful books:







Meanwhile, she continued to draw her own pictures and write her own books until this summer, it came out!!!:



As you may be able to see, her name is Astrid Sheckels. You can check out her website astridsheckels.com where you will see lots more beautiful artwork! And, soon, more books!

Little Irritations

Okay, so maybe it’s just me. Recently, I’ve been making my way through the television series Monk. That’s the one about the OCD detective. It’s very funny…and very scary. I don’t mean I have nightmares over murder mysteries. I just mean I often see the world just like he does. I separate my food. I put magazines, books and other things in neat rows. I alphabetize just about everything. And if I was to draw a picture of my world, I would do so with a black pen in perfectly straight lines down the paper. Just ask Katey how awful I was to play with…

So, little details can irritate me – to a point. Some things I honestly don’t care about. (I don’t use a leveler to hang my pictures. I’m not a cleaning fanatic. And I’m not big on making every little thing perfect for events, which is why women’s events at camp drive me crazy and also why I am having a short ceremony and cakes, mints, nuts and punch at my wedding.) But some things really get on my nerves.

The top on the list recently (besides women’s events at camp) is the new first class postage stamps. They’re American flags, which I 100% approve of. However, they are put on backgrounds and drawn in such a way that it’s hard to tell which way to put the stamp on the envelope. The only saving grace to not putting our beloved flag upside down are the words “USA” and “Forever” printed on the stamp. And even then, some people aren’t detailed enough to notice that and are hence sending distress signals through the mail.  

I know our United States Post Office is failing. Everything that is government run is – as history proves over and over again. Perhaps that’s the whole point of these horribly drawn flags – the USPS is trying to tell us it’s in distress. Or maybe the artist was. And the committee that approved the design. Well, I’m joining the club. I’m distressed that one of these days I’m going to put my flag upside down. Yet another reason why I would take my business elsewhere –if the USPS had competition. But that’s another soap box for another time. 

Meeting of the Flies

We have a staff meeting every Tuesday morning, usually about 10:30 or 11. It’s the only time all of us are in one place, catching each other up on maintenance issues, what the kitchen’s cooking up, weekend groups, retreats we’re planning for and miscellaneous things. Like most meetings, they have their boring moments. But ours nearly always have times of laughter. Although none were quite like this last one:

“Well, it was a really good weekend,” says Bill. “What is with all these flies?”

“It’s that time of year,” I said.

“Does anyone have a fly swatter?” Lisa asked, trying to protect her cups of coffee, tea and water.

“As I was saying, it was a good weekend…” Bill gives the report on Labor Day Weekend Family Camp where we had nearly 220 people all over camp, more than half of them children under the age of 15.

“Okay, Aaron, what do we have coming up?” Bill asks.

Aaron starts on his report when…SPLAT!

“Got him!” Lisa says, picking up the now dead fly and putting it in her empty tea cup.

Aaron continues on with the guest groups that will be using camp over the next few weeks. Meanwhile, two flies get in a fight and tackle each other on the table right next to me. Lisa slams them.

“Two!” Bill applauds as they get put in the open fly grave with the first victim.

Phil follows Aaron with reports on the new sidewalk, carpet cleaning and other things that need to be done before fall comes and winter quickly closes in on that.

SPLAT!

“Aw, you missed that one,” I told Bill.

“I’m working on it,” Bill says.

“My mom used to give us a nickel for every fly we killed this time of year,” I said. “My sister Grace would spend hours killing flies. She knew how to make some serious money.”

“And that’s everything I have,” Phil concludes.

“Okay, Melissa. You’re turn,” Bill says.

SPLAT! Another fly joins the open grave.

I finished up what I’m busy with in the office and next is Lisa’s turn, but first…

SPLAT!

I have never seen a fly spin like a top, but this one did – not quite dead. I think it may have overheard us discussing where the disco ball is for the Dads ‘n Daughters “Lights, Camera, Action!” dinner on Saturday. It wanted to try break dancing.

“What are you going to do with that?” Bill asks Lisa.

Lisa scoops it up, puts it in the open grave, grabs my empty cup and stuffs it into her cup, twisting it to ensure all the flies are now dead.

“That works,” Bill said.

And so our meeting continues…the casualty count ending at about eight or nine. And lots of running water and soap.

You know, it must be in the air. I don’t mean the flies. I mean killing insects. For later that afternoon, following a stray wasp in his office, Aaron found that some wasps are building a really nice nest in the blue fir tree just outside his office window. And today he decided to spray them with every can of wasp-killer we had.

Insects beware: stay clear of Camp Lebanon!

"My heart is insecure, but He is not."
              ~ believer in a closed country

Teamwork

Yesterday; Marc, Andrea, Aaron and I took a break from the office and went to lunch. It was our “summer-is-over-let’s-recap-and-see-what-we-need-to-do-to-improve” meeting. And it went very well.

Aaron’s solution to improving just about anything is simple: more technology. We made great advances this year, loading up check-in lists to Google docs which made things much faster. We set records of having our money reconciled and canteen cards done by 6:45. Now if we could just get bar codes on everyone’s three-week letters, we could just scan them in. In a matter of years, we won’t need anyone to actually work check-in – just have kiosks! Of course, it won’t ever go to that, but the bar code idea’s not bad. And technology would help improve our system: we could run credit cards at check-in and – best of all – if we went to doing express via Google docs, too, then I would know every kid who has arrived which would make switching kids to different cabins on registration day easier. It’s so much easy to move a kid who has arrived yet!

Marc is the quiet one in our meetings, but that’s because he’s processing everything before he puts in his two-cents. He’s all about getting technology up and running if we know what we want, so that’s good. And he agreed that putting the summer staff to work more on registration days would lighten our loads, maybe to the point that we wouldn’t have to work so many of them! He’ll also be my go-to person to get the right things up on the on-line registration, not to mention solving the number 1 problem we add: the ability for parents to log back in to their account and pay their remaining balance!

Andrea thought the summer went wonderful! But her only experience was last summer when computer systems got changed over and that ended up being a disaster. With that in mind, I didn’t have a very tough act to follow! She also thrives with lots of people around. She had ideas about moving some things to make the flow of people easier and she really wanted to use more of the staff to fill in some gaps. What we’ll be working on most is improving the junior staff check-in and communication. Although it improved a little over the summer, I did get a bit tired of 13-year-olds thinking they knew how to run camp as soon as they put on a staff shirt. I mean, it might be my first summer, but I’ve at least got 20 years of living up on them. Right?

As for me, I am ever about making things more efficient. Anything that will save me or others some time, I want to see happen. And, apparently, I’m pretty good at it. Aaron said he hasn’t seen a better summer as far as that went – and he really appreciated that I had everything ready to go well before starting time. For me, that’s a matter of course. I don’t want to be spinning circles as 200 kids arrive on our doorstep. And if I don’t, surely no one else does.

All in all, it was a very good meeting. My project now is to write up the final report on it and e-mail it out to everyone. And then to make the improvements that fall under my responsibility. But what I got out of the meeting most was this: we are a team. It’s amazing to work with a group of people who want to see you succeed, support what you’re trying to accomplish, and are there to fill in the gaps when you just can’t do it. I have always seen my place in an office as a supporting role. I’m not in the forefront…and I don’t want to be. That can be a frustrating position unless you have a good team you’re supporting. And I do. So, even though things are going to get more difficult around here as we transition from kids (who don’t need a lot to be pleased) to women (who need the world and then some to be pleased), having my co-workers behind me will get me up those hills. And I hope I can do the same for them.

Christmas in the Summer

The theme this summer at camp was “Christmas: A New Season for the Reason”. And, yes, camp was decked out in Christmas lights, decorated trees and Christmas music blared on opening days. Some of the kids thought it silly. Most thought it was fun.

Earlier on during the summer, Megan, the head of the female junior staff, asked me this question: “Melissa, if you could have anything you wanted for Christmas, what would it be?”

I didn’t hesitate. “A rolltop desk.”

Megan is very expressive, perhaps because she is a theatre major. You could see the confused look of wonder on her face before she even said, “What is that?”

Somehow, having to explain a rolltop desk never does it justice. More or less, Megan thought I was nuts.

Summer went on. The day before the final day, Pete asked me to come to the last part of staff meeting on the last day. I would never be a good poker player because apparently my facial expressions say everything.

“I promise,” he said. “It’s not bad.”

I had to wonder. After all, I had missed the pie in the face that one closing day…and I knew there were several summer staff members who were aiming at me. But, when my name was called over the walkie later the next day, I made my way to the lounge full of summer staff who were meeting for the last time.

Pete explained to the staff how much work it takes to get a summer to run – work they never see done. And, yes, I probably did put in extra hours this summer getting it all done. (I can remember a few frustrating, late hours on Saturdays…) But I enjoyed it, so I was a little surprised when Pete told me the summer staff had taken up a love offering and bought me a gift. He passed a small, Christmas wrapped package my way.

“Do you remember, Melissa, when I asked you if you could have anything for Christmas, what would it be?” Megan piped up.

“Oh!” I now realized what Megan had been up to. Then I laughed as I accepted the gift that couldn’t have weighed a pound and was no more than a foot long and two inches in height. “This doesn’t at all look like a rolltop desk, Megan.”

She just laughed.

So, I opened my gift. And found something I never thought I’d receive, although I did want one and Megan and I had had a couple of conversations about it as she bought one for her mother for her birthday: a Kindle.

So, I am now the owner of a paperwhite Kindle…something I am thoroughly enjoying. I am learning how it works, and how to get books from the library on it, and have spent quite a bit of time finding out what books I can purchase for it. So far, I love it. Except for one small thing…

I confess I am a perfectionist in some ways. Perhaps even a little OCD. One thing I really hate is when people fold down a corner of a page to mark their place in a book.

Don’t they know what they’re doing?!?!?!

Book pages should not be creased!!!!!

Well, when you mark your place in a Kindle book, it looks like you’re folding down the corner of the page. I know, I know. It’s digital. It’s not harming anything. But it really bothers me. I need to figure out if there isn’t a way to change that…for the other night I simply couldn’t bring myself to do it. I memorized what page I was on.

Maybe what I need to do is write a letter to Amazon…and then get some therapy.

Summer Favorites

I haven’t really written a lot about my wonderful summer at camp. I haven’t had time! It’s been very busy and it’s hard to believe it’s already over. But I thought a snapshot of my favorite moments would be good. And I am so awfully good at making lists:

• Coming into work one day to find four young boys crawling around the golf cart on their hands and knees “What are you doing?” I asked. “Catching a squirrel!” 
• A little boy running into my office where Andrea and I were hard a work, looking over the counter and demanding, “Which one of you is Melissa?” “Um, I am?” “The ping pong ball machine ate my quarter. I was told to come here, and see Melissa, and she could get me a ball.” I am now adding “ping-pong-ball-provider” to my resume. 
• Little eyes gazing at me in fear as I asked the little siblings of our campers if they wanted to come to camp, too. Most of them just shook their heads. 
• Hudson. Aaron’s little three-year-old is my new crush. He’s way more cute than he should be…and more trouble. How many times can you lock yourself in the bathroom? 
• Not getting a pie in the face. I was on the phone when my name came over the walkie. Andrea took it for me. I baked her a loaf of bread in thanks.
• Cool weather! We have had a grand total of 5 days that hit 90. While you thought these Minnesotans might melt, I loved every minute of it! And can you believe that some leaves are already changing! 
• Learning to play octoball. I am very bad at it.
• Registration days. There were moments I wanted to pull my hair out, throw the computer across the room and tell a few teenagers that being with twelve-year-olds (which they were only two years ago) for four days wouldn’t kill them. But I loved seeing all the kids come in, chat with them and have them tell me all about the fun they have at camp.
• Serving the summer staff – they were a good team. I’d say by the end of the summer less than half of them weren’t terrified of me…
• The surprise of receiving a gift from the summer staff – a Kindle! (More on that later…)

Happy Birthday, Charlie!

Truly, being 20 isn’t so bad!

Rules of Murder

What’s a good mystery without a murder? Simply not a mystery. And if you want a really good mystery, you’ve got to have more than one murder – right? Well, this book had six.

Rules of Murder by Julianna Deering follows the best rules of murder mysteries: more than one murder, English backdrop and a few red herrings. The characters are intriguing, the time period (early 1930s) flashy and the conclusion is “twisty”. You won’t be unsatisfied if you’re a mystery lover…just a little sleepy. For while good, it’s not a mystery you’ll read until two in the morning by flashlight. The plot is slow, I found the relationship between the hero and heroine a bit odd, and the mysterious past the hero discovers he has is hardly mentioned once he discovers it. That was disappointing.

Still, if you love mysteries (and I do), you’re always looking for another one to read. So, pick up Rules of Murder…and see if you can’t solve who-dun-it before the final chapter ends.

This book was provided by Bethany House Publishers for review purposes only.

http://bakerpublishinggroup.com/books/rules-of-murder/343331

Visitors!

Last week I had visitors (hence the lack of blogging last week). My parents. They stayed in one of the very nice cottages at camp and we had a great time. They brought up my dresser from home. (Yea! No more piling my clothes on shelves!) And Mom brought me produce from the garden. (Squash or cucumbers anyone?) Since the cottage has a grill, we made the most of it and grilled hamburgers, corn on the cob, squash, sausages and steak. (No, not all in one night). We played games. Dad went fishing on the lake while Mom canoed. (In other words: Dad navigated, Mom paddled and we’re just glad none of the neighbors called them on charges of disturbing the peace.) Also…

Dad fished on the Mississippi. When I texted this picture to my siblings, Sally wanted to know if we didn’t grow bigger fish up here and Jenny said to tell Dad that was the bait – not the fish.

Mom and Dad went ziplining at camp! Mom beat him both times – Dad says she didn’t count off right.

 At the insistence of the summer staff, I joined them on the zipline. It was my first time on it (if you don’t count hanging from it in the snow).

Catch Up

Where does the time go? For the past many years, I’ve waiting endlessly for summer to come to an end. In Texas, it never does. In Minnesota, it’s over before it started. The lake thawed in May…it dips down into the 40s at night now. I even heard it may dip down into the 30s on Saturday. Snow anyone?

I like this part of summer. Never reached hundred. Hardly reached the 90s. Always cool at night. What I don’t like is camp is almost over. We have this week of 215 junior highers. On Sunday, we will welcome close to 200 9 to 12 year olds. And then it’s over. It seems like we only just begun. Camp will be like a tomb. And I’m not looking forward to that.

This week it’s time to transfer my mind to one last week-long family camp and the Labor Day weekend family camp. Then it’s on to Dads ‘n Daughters, Senior Week, Men’s Retreat and Women’s Retreat…not to mention Quilt Retreats start this last weekend of October and the first three are already full. I’m going through the motions of prep, but my mind isn’t quite in them yet.

In other news, my parents are visiting this week, staying at one of the cottages at camp until Friday. We don’t have any great plans, but it will be nice to have them around and see what my life here is like.

I am now completely moved to Minnesota…put the license plates on my car on Friday.  It’s nice to have all that over with. Tomorrow I get a really nice chair for my apartment – a huge, comfy, round swivel chair. Can’t wait. It will be great not to sit on the floor, and I could have fallen asleep on it at the furniture store. My parents are bringing my dresser. And I think all that will quite suffice. After all, it will all have to be moved again, right?

My Addiction: Libraries

A move always means adjustments. And no matter how often you move, those adjustments don’t come easy. But some are wonderful.

I still think Connecticut has the best library system of any of the places I live. I mean, who can beat having one card that gets you into any library in the state? But Minnesota is a close second. I can’t get into any library in the state, but I can get into 32 of them. Even better, all 32 come to me.

I can get on the Great River Library System’s website (thus named for the Mississippi River which I cross at least twice a week going to and from church), put any book I want on hold and it gets delivered to my local library which is not even a half mile down the street from my apartment. Can’t get much better than that!

In fact, I get carried away. I have several lists under my account number on the website: DVDs, mysteries, children’s book and a “catch all”. I don’t know how many items are on them – 100 or so I guess. For if I find anything I’ve wanted to read or watch, I put it on a list. And when I’m ready to have it delivered to me, I put it on reserve. Depending on what number I am in line, I’ll have it in a couple of days.

So, the other day I was looking for some picture books to give me new ideas for birthday presents. I had a long list from a particular book publisher which publishes mostly good books. As I looked them up on the library’s website, I couldn’t help myself. I put six to eight on hold in a matter of moments. I had to hold myself back from putting them all on hold, putting the rest on a list for later. This past Wednesday, as I was off from work, I walked down to the library and picked them all up – lugging back a pile of maybe ten books. It was just like I always dreamed – living so close to a library I could walk there and lug home books. A childhood dream it took three decades to accomplish – like most things in my life.

So, it would seem I don’t actually have to go to a library to take home much more than I can read in three weeks. But there are certainly worse addictions than that.

Happy Birthday, Dad!

Happy 27^th Birthday, Daniel!

 Guess you’re probably too old for a train cake now…

Pies in the Face and the FBA

Super Kids 2 ended Thursday. Nearly 200 kids ages 9 to 12 had been running about camp last week. It was a busy week – lots of activity. And with the warmer weather (around 90 for two days in a row), they kept mostly to the water. With that many children, I was quite ready for a busy Thursday morning as they all left. And busy it was.

The phone rang every five minutes, which makes getting other things done rather difficult. And it’s not easy to keep one ear on the phone conversation and the walkie-talkie. But the phone calls saved me when I heard my name over the radio.

At closing assembly, some staff member gets a pie in the face. I’m not 100% sure how it happens. I don’t have time to go to a closing assembly. I think it has something to do with memory verses. All I know is, I’ve had a target on my back (or face) since the summer started. They call it an initiation, but I think they’re just out to see if they can get me for Marc has worked at camp well over 15 years and never had a pie in the face. Well, my number came up on Thursday. Only I was on the phone with a mother who had a lot of questions. So, I was spared. While Andrea took my “dessert”.

The kids were released soon after and I had more than one little visitor from the FBA with their mother who told me she had left over canteen money that didn’t get returned to her.

“I had $12.25,” one girl told me.

She was right. Somehow, the money didn’t get put in a bag for her, so I gave her the money.

“I had $8.75,” said another little girl.

She, too, was right except it was a green card which his bonus money, so I sent her to the store to spend it before she left.

I expect to meet quite a few members of the FFA in Minnesota, but I was surprised at the amount of the FBA (Future Bankers of America) I met on Thursday – little girls who keep better tabs on their money than any of the teenagers who have been around camp this summer and some of the adults. If you ask me, we should put the government in their hands. Give them a few years, and we’d be right as rain!

Show Some Respect, Please

Okay, yes. When I was a kid I thought my parents a little over the top with the whole respect thing. Especially as I spent half my youth in New England. Up there I had adults tell me all the time when I obeyed my parents and addressed them as “Mrs. Smith”, “Oh, just call me ‘Margie’.” All the other kids certainly did. But when I told my parents Mrs. Smith said it was okay to call her “Margie”, I was soundly told, “You will call her ‘Mrs. Smith’.” I swore I would never make my children do that.

As if that didn’t make me weird enough to my peers, I was also carefully instructed to answer “Yes, ma’am”, “No. ma’am”, “Yes, sir” and “No, sir”. In fact, we had a jar of coins in the house we were saving to take a trip to Chuck E. Cheeses (a HUGE treat for us). Every time we failed to answer with the proper “Yes, ma’am” or “No, sir”, out came a coin. Let’s just say it took us a little while to save up…

After a while, I just got use to being weird. Years went by and it became so ingrained, you thought nothing of it. Until I got my first adult job. Let’s just say it took me a while to stop trying to figure out my co-workers last names so I could show proper respect. Although, with some, I still added “Mr.” or “Mrs.” and I couldn’t quite get over the “Yes, ma’am” or “No, sir”.

Of course, when I did live or work in the South, it was no big deal. In fact, it became even more ingrained because everyone did it. And during my last three years in Texas, I was quite used to being referred to as “Miss Melissa” and even learned to tolerate “Yes, ma’am.” Then I moved back North.

And the oath I took as a child has done a full 180 reversal. My children will show proper respect, I don’t care where they live. They will say “Yes, ma’am” and “No, sir”. And they will call adults “Mr.” or “Mrs.” or, at least, “Miss”. Because there is something very wrong about a three-year-old coming up to me and saying, “Hi, Melissa!” I haven’t yet, but I’ve come very close to telling one of them, “It’s ‘Miss Melissa’.”

Most people find my “Southern lingo” charming. Others, who are older than my parents, have said, “Don’t call me ‘Mr. Ackerman’. It makes me old.” (I still call him Mr. Ackerman and today he teasingly replied, “Hello, Miss Melissa” as if I would be insulted – which I wasn’t.) It’s a little awkward, but I don’t plan on calling a 60-something-year-old-man “Ken” anytime soon.

It’s not that I think I’m oh-so-wise and deserve respect at the age of 33. I haven’t done that much nor have that much wisdom to have earned some kind of obeisance. But the fact that I am old enough to be an 8-year-old’s mother is the only requirement needed to be called “Miss Melissa”. It’s not so much for me but for the child. It is Biblical truth that a young person should show respect to one that is older. Outside of that, it’s just plain rude to be called by my first name as if I were as much a 5-year-old as the 3-foot little person looking up at me.

I’d venture to say the North lost all proper show of respect when they bombed Fort Sumter and started the War Between the States. The war wasn’t over slavery. It was over state’s rights…and a way for the North to stomp all over the values of Southerners. I’m happy to say they didn’t completely succeed. But they’re still trying. Happily, I can be just as stubborn as my Southern forebears. And maybe teach these Yankees a thing or two along the way.